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saltsicklover · 4 months

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Title: Christmas is for Memories

Prompt: Fireplace

Written for @sailor-aviator 's Christmas Writing Challenge! You can find the rest of the list HERE

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3200+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Drunk Driving, Character Deaths, Mentions of Deceased family, Death ideation, Bradley is somehow the main character of this fic, Jake's got sisters

The picture stared down at Bradley from it's place atop the mantle. The golden frame highlighting a photograph he's never seen before. Not that he would have. After all, this is Jake's family's house and he is just a last minute addition to the festivities.

Jake all but drug Bradley down to Texas with him, after Maverick and Ice got pulled to the Pentagon for the week of Christmas, pulling both the rug and their plans out from underneath them. So, Maverick and Iceman packed up their dress uniforms and hauled themselves across the country. When Jake got word that Bradley would be the only Dagger not spending the holiday with family, he knew his Mother would have his head if he didn't bring the mustached pilot along with him.

Now, Bradley stands semi-awkwardly in a cozy living room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. The air smells of warm vanilla and fresh pine trees, the Christmas tree decorated to the nines in the corner of the room. There are six presents under the tree, far less than Rooster had been expecting when he walked into the room. The lights twinkle, lighting up the room and fighting off the darkness creeping in through the windows.

Though Bradley keeps trying to look anywhere else, his eyes keep snagging on that damn photograph. There's something about the way Hangman looks in it, smile wide as he looks up at a woman, well, more of a girl really. She's sat in a tree, body tucked into the spaces between a couple of curing limbs of the large oak. Jake's younger in the photograph too, maybe twelve years or so. His hair is longer, the back curling around his neck gently, the top threatening to fall into his eyes. Even though the photograph is black and white, Bradley can still see that damn sparkle in Jake's green eyes.

The girl smiles down at him with so much adoration in her features and it hits Bradley straight in the chest. It's one of those looks that his mother used to give his father, and the way Maverick and Ice look at each other when they think no one is around to see them. Her smile is so damn big, her cheeks round and hued.

A cowboy hat is held loosely between her fingertips, laying over Jake's chest. He leans back against the tree, bracketed by her legs. Her other hand is wrapped around a branch, keeping her body firmly in place as she leans out just slightly to get a better look at her counterpart. Jake, on the other hand, just has his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, thumbs hanging loosely over the edge of the pockets.

Though every photograph is a piece of time captured, this photograph seems to hold so much more. Like the moment had been frozen just so, existing more than just to be photographed but because they actually wanted to be there, wrapped up in each other.

The heat from the fireplace spreads over Bradley, soaking in through his clothes. There is no snow in Texas, but there is a bite to the air that he hasn't been able to shake since he walked off of the plane. It's a far cry from a California winter, but this house is far cozier than his back home. He'd forgone decorating, fully prepared to be at his Dad and Pop's place, and their decorations had been up since the week of Thanksgiving.

"What's caught your eye, Sailor?" The sound of Sarah's voice makes Bradley practically jump out of his skin. Sarah, Jake's older sister, holds a plate of plastic wrap covered cookies in her hands, a grin firmly fixed to her lips. It's that signature Seresin grin that Bradley has come to recognize all too easy.

"Aviator, actually," The answer is sheepish, Bradley still reeling with the feeling of being caught looking at something he shouldn't, even though the photograph is proudly displayed on the mantle place.

"I know, I'm just bustin' your balls, kid," Sarah shoots back, her voice nothing but kind. She sets the plate of cookies down on the coffee table before turning her attention back to a cherry red Bradley. "Do you think Jake would let us forget that little distinction?"

The little laugh that leaves Bradley's lips almost surprises him, "No. I don't think he would."

"Seems you wouldn't either, Brad," She nudges him with her elbow, taking up place next to him in front of the fire. "Which one of these oldies caught your eye?"

The wall above the mantle, as well as the mantle place itself is absolutely covered in photographs. They are all mixed together, frames and sizes, ranging from faded with age to almost new. The pair stand in front of the fire for another beat, taking in the heat from the crackling flames as their eyes trace over the photographs. It's then that Bradley begins to find that same girl, again and again, over and over. He's almost dizzy from the way his eyes snap between photographs.

"Oh, what are we lookin' at?" Another woman's voice calls from behind Bradley, same as before. This time, it's Jake's little sister Anna. She bubbles into the room, choosing to stand in front of the fire on Bradley's other side. "God, the photo wall. I swear, Mama's lucky our family is small or she'd run out of room up there,"

The women share a giggle, the sound washing over Bradley in the way Natasha's does. It's all warmth and comfort, the sound of friendship withstanding the test of time. Bradley doesn't laugh, however. He is too stuck looking at photographs of Hangman and the way he lights up the fucking world when he looks at that girl. It makes the pang in his chest hit just a bit harder when he thinks for just a little bit too long. He's never seen Jake smile like that. Not in photographs, not in person. Hell, even when they made it back from the Uranium mission, Jake didn't smile like that. God, there was a bit of pain in his smile, something Bradley still has never been able to place. That smile had been all grateful and surviving, lined with a thin stroke of aching that Bradley just can't fucking shake.

"This one is one of my favorites," Anna points a well polished fingernail up to a small square frame on the wall. Inside, Sarah, Anna, and that mystery girl are all lined up. Sarah and Anna are dressed in formal gowns, deep sea green with hemlines that hit the floor. Their Seresin blonde hair is pinned up from their shoulders, makeup sparkling in the sunlight. The mystery girl is squished between them, her dress stark white and absolutely glittering from all of the sequins. Her hair is down in curls. Her makeup is done but hard to see with her eyes squeezed closed, whole expression broke out in a laugh. Sarah and Anna are laughing too, though their faces are less scrunched up.

"Oh my god, mine too," Sarah laughs, her nose wrinkling a bit. "It was a beautiful wedding, and we got so many pictures but Mama had to hang that one up! Look at me, why is my mouth open so far?" The girls are laughing harder, each grabbing a light hold of Bradley to keep steady.

"Well, at least you aren't blurry!" Anna shoots back, her body slightly hunched over.

Bradley is just about to ask who's wedding it was when Sarah thrusts her finger towards another picture.

"Look, the proposal photo is just as silly. Jake's hands are practically covering up Pip's face!" The girls are laughing again, both still clutching at Bradley's frame. He just leans closer to the photo, trying to get a better look, one with less glare. It doesn't help, really, the photo out of focus anyway. Jake can be made out, standing behind a girl with his hands covering her eyes, well, most of her face, save for her smile. Her fingers are wrapped around his wrists, looking like she's trying to pull Jake's hands from her eyes.

"With how blurry it is, we're lucky we can even tell it's them!" Anna all but howls, wiping at her waterlines with her fingertips as carefully as she can.

"Do you think Mama knows that she picks the worst photos?" Sarah inquires, finally releasing her grip from Bradley's sleeve.

"I think they're nice," Bradley stutters out, his voice so low it almost gets lost in the crackling of the fireplace. "Who is that, anyway?"

He first chances a look to his left, only to wish he hadn't. Anna looks up at him, a look of pain crossing behind her eyes, only to bleed out over he features even as much she tries to hide it. Though, it quickly mixes with anger, and she's spitting out words before Bradley can even decipher the expression that she's settled on.

"That's Pip," She informs him, like that information should be clear as day to him. "Are you blind or something, Bradshaw?"

Bradley's eyes jump over to Sarah in a silent beg for help. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights, or maybe how grandma felt just before her ass was grass at the hands of Rudolf himself.

"No, not blind," Bradley's tongue finally falls on the words, though they taste a bit off on his tongue, "I just don't recognize someone I've never seen before. Hell, I didn't even... I guess I just hadn't... Jake is married?"

The air is sucked out of the room as soon as the fully formed question leaves his lips. Suddenly Bradley feels too hot in front of the fire, or maybe he's too hot from the heated look that Anna is sending his direction. Either way, he feels all sweaty under his Henley, suddenly wishing for that almost forgotten chill of the Texas winter air. He takes a step back away from the fire. And then another. The looks he's getting from the Seresin girls are polarizing. Anna looks almost furious, while Sarah's brows are scrunched together, eyes wandering like she is trying to put a puzzle together in her mind.

Anna steps forward, ready to spit another harsh word Bradley's way, but Sarah catches her by the wrist. The squeeze on Anna's wrist is enough to keep her quiet for just a second longer, long enough for Sarah to get a sentence out,"

"Bradley," His eyes snap back to meet hers, "Has Jake ever mentioned Pippa?"

The air has slowly begun to enter the room again, but Bradley doesn't trust his tongue. It's like being back at the academy again, throat dry while he stands at attention waiting for his uniform inspection. So, Bradley just shakes his head back and fourth a couple of times, firm in his 'no'. He watches as Anna's eyes begin to swim, then as she is quickly folded into her older sister's embrace. Her hand is quickly cradling the nape of Anna's neck, Anna's face tucked right into Sarah's shoulder.

"So, you have no idea who Pippa is. Or that Jake was married?" A small, wet sob is muffled by the material of Sarah's sweater. Her hand runs over Anna's now shaking frame, her own eyes swimming. But she manages to hold it together, keeping her eyes locked with Bradley's.

"Was?" Bradley manages to ask, all but choking out the one word.

The front door slams shut a second later, making the trio jump. There is so much tension in the air, swirling with confusion it's almost stifling.

"Hello Family! Hey Bradshaw, how are you holding-" Jake rounds the corner, only to be met with Bradley's startled expression and Sarah's angry, watery eyes. Anna is still folded into her big sister's arms, crying gently. "Up..." The last word slips from Jake's lips, his head tilting to the side out of confusion. "Is everything okay?"

"Jake Seresin," Sarah starts, more hurt than venom in her voice, but it still makes Jake's heart beat a little faster. "When did you stop talking about Pippa?"

The name makes his heart twist, but the question has his stomach dropping to his knees. He flounders, mouth opening and closing, never settling on a response.

"Hangman?" Bradley tries, but the older man still doesn't meet his eyes.

"You know what, I've gotta," Jake hooks a thumb behind him, "I gotta run into town," He turns on his heel, ready to head back the way he came just moments before.

"Jacob Morris, don't you dare take another step," His shoulders slump at his sister's warning, but he does stop. "Bradley, sit down. You too, Jake," Sarah has gone into full big sister mode now. Bradley listens first, stepping around the coffee table to take a seat on the couch. Jake plops down onto one of the arm chairs a moment later, but refuses to meet his eye. Then, Sarah settles Anna into the matching arm chair before turning to her brother with her hands on her hips.

"So," She begins, hurt in her voice, "Are you going to tell you wingman about your wife, or am I?"

That sentence broke the flood gates, tears falling down each of the sibling's cheeks while Bradley just sat there in the salty silence.

"I met Pip when we were eighteen," Jake croaks out, eyes still glued to the floor in front of his boots. "She was my everything. God, she had the best spirit. So full of love, and she lit up every room. I know everyone says that, but there was just something about her, everyone took notice. I don't know why, but she picked me. We got married at twenty, right before I shipped off to the Academy. Leaving her behind was the hardest thing I ever did. Then, after flight school, she moved out to NSA Pensacola with me. We got our first real go at it, you know, the whole being married thing,"

Bradley hangs onto every word. Each one slow spoken and fully of pain, but he takes them in anyway.

"You know, they say my call sign is due to my flying. Always leaving people hanging in the air, in the battle. But that's not true," A hollow laugh leaves the depths of Jake's chest, "It was because I left everyone hanging at the bar to go home and call Pip before she went to bed. Then it stuck because I would leave right after hops to go home to her. She was my everything. Nothing else mattered to me. It was her and flying and right back to her,"

Jake gets a little choked up, so Sarah squeezes his shoulder. A sign of support.

"When we were twenty six, she came home for Thanksgiving. I was stuck out in the middle of the fucking ocean, so she came home to spend the holiday with family. I told her to, God, I told her to. She always said she missed being in Texas, and we were in Maryland by then. So I told her to drive home for it. Spend as much time as she could here while I was gone."

Tears are slick over Jake's reddened cheeks, hot from crying. He takes another deep, jagged breath before continuing.

"She was killed by a drunk driver a few miles from here. She made that whole drive without a single hiccup, only for some dickhead from a town over to get behind the wheel while shitfaced. I uhh..." The sobs hit him harder, too hard for him to continue to speak.

"The Navy couldn't get word to him for days," Sarah explains, "Communication went dark for their mission a few days before. It was out of all our hands. We waited until she was home to scatter her ashes,"

Jake grips the chain of his dog tags at her words, "Not all of 'em," He pulls them free from his shirt, a small, steal vile hanging beside them. "I still got a piece of her with me, right next to my heart," Then he takes his sister's hand from where it sits atop his shoulder. He squeezes it gently.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything, Rooster. I just, I guess... " Jake takes another jagged breath, "After Pip died, I got bad. I became reckless, started truly living up to my callsign. Thought if I left people hanging in the air, I might get back to her faster,"

The admission pulls small gasps from his sisters, as well as a deep pang from Bradley's chest. He gets it, he really does. Bradley is the other side of the coin, being careful, too careful. Stuck hoping that if he holds back just a little longer, he will actually be just a second too late, a second closer to seeing his parents again.

Anna reaches a hand out to Jake, and he takes it in his free hand, the trio leaning on each other for support. No doubt in the same way they have had for years now. The sight reminds Bradley of Maverick, Ice, and his Mom. How they used to hold each other up after Goose died. The look the sisters share being so close to the way his Dad and Pops looked at each other after his Mom died. Bradley sees so much of his own life here in this little room.

"Stand up," Bradley almost orders, though his words are still on the side of kind. The lack of context makes Jake finally meet Bradley's face.

"What?" The blond asks through stray tears.

"Stand up, Hangman," And so he does. Bradley pushes himself from the couch, and in two strides is wrapping Jake in his arms. His wingman doesn't flinch away like he was expecting, instead, the blond wraps his own arms around Bradley.

"Thank you for telling me, Jake," Bradley starts, keeping his voice as even as he can. "I, I think you need to hear something, though,"

"I already know I'm a fucking idiot, Rooster," Jake mumbles into his shoulder, the cotton slowly dampening.

"No, it's something Mav used to say to me after my parents died," Jake nods at that, so Bradley continues. "Mav used to say, I know things are hard without them, but you've gotta keep living, because you've gotta have stories to tell them when you meet again,"

"And part of that living, Jake, is talking about your loved ones, present and lost," Sarah interjects, but Bradley nods in agreement.

"I guess you're right," Jake admits as he pulls back from Bradley's embrace to look at him and his sisters. "I should talk about her,"

"Yes, you should" Anna squeaks out, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks.

"You can start by sitting down and telling me all about her," Bradley points to the seat Jake had been sitting in previously. And so, he does. Jake shares stories all about his wife Pip and their life together. The group of four all squeeze onto the couch after the first story, when Sarah busts out the photo album. And by the warm of the dwindling fireplace, Bradley learns all about Jake's wife, and even shares about his parents, keeping them alive through their stories. It wasn't exactly the night any of them had planned, but it was everything they needed.

#jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #saltsicklover #christmas writing prompts #christmas writing challenge #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick fanfiction

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shyficwriter · 5 months

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8 & T - Yondu X daughter reader ❤️

Thanks for the prompt! 8. Snow down back of neck T. Tickling [Send me a prompt and I'll write a drabble]

***

"Zip up your jacket." Yondu scolded you flatly as he locked up the ship.

You ignored him and continued chattering about the winter festival that would be happening in the nearby town the next day and how excited you were to see the lights. "I read that the trees look like mini nebulas they're so bright!"

Yondu had decided to take the crew on the rare vacation that wasn't on Contraxia. Currently most of his men were in the town drinking it up and the two of you were heading to join Kraglin and Peter by an out-of-the-way ice-fishing hole that Yondu was familiar with. He had sent them ahead to set up while he and you stayed back to repair your collapse-able fishing rod.

Yondu knew the repair would have actually only needed maybe five minutes to complete, but hey, it got him out of having to saw holes in the frozen lake and he knew you wouldn't complain either.

Now the two of you were on your way to join them, following the tracks they had left in the snow.

"Eh- probably exaggerated to bring in tourists," Yondu said, responding to your earlier comment about the lights.

"Can't you let yourself be excited for once?" you half-whine, half-tease.

Yondu glanced at you with a grin. "Nope."

You playfully punch him in the arm.

He returned your playful punch, and told you again to zip up your jacket.

Again you ignored him, a mischievous grin forming on your lips as you allowed yourself to fall behind in your pace just long enough to quickly grab some snow from the ground before recovering your pace to rejoin him at his side.

You turn the subject towards a job you knew was coming up after this vacation would be over, asking about the planet it was to be set on. This, of course, was just a means of distraction before you enacted your mischief. Nothing big. Just a little snow down his back... heck, you could probably blame one of the trees overhead for it.

Yondu starts to answer, and you think you're in the clear to pull off your prank, but the second you go to raise your arm he reaches out and grabs your wrist, making your hand open on instinct and drop its snow.

He turns to you with an eye roll and a smirk, still holding your wrist. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice? You gotta be sneakier than that, kid."

It takes a second for the shock to wear off, but once you recover you return his smirk with one of your own. "Or have a good backup plan!" and with that you swung your other hand up over his shoulder and shoved the other handful of snow you had grabbed down the back of his coat, sure that you possibly even made some of it go down into the back of his shirt.

Yondu's eyes widened and he recoiled as soon as the cold hit his skin, immediately releasing your wrist so he could reach back and attempt to fish out any un-melted snow- though of course that was a lost cause.

In the meantime you just stood there, laughing your ass off.

After a moment Yondu turns back toward you and narrows his eyes. "Betcha thought that was real funny, didn't ya? Real proud of yerself, ain't ya?"

Still giggling, you nod. However, your giggling slows once you notice the look on his face.

He steps towards you and just glares at you for a moment. By now you had stopped giggling and started to wonder how many toilets he was gonna make you clean back on the Eclector for your little stunt.

The silence hung for a good couple moments before Yondu spoke. Eyeing you, a playful smirk played on his features as he asked, "Thought I told you to zip up your jacket?"

You only just had time to look down before Yondu lunged for you, his hands quickly flying past your open jacket, latching onto your ribs, and sending you into hysteric laughter as you tried to fight him off.

You squealed out a "No! No fair!" as he continued to tickle the snot out of you.

"I think it's more than fair, missy!" he laughed. "You ignored me twice about zipping up your jacket, and then you shoved snow down my back! Far as I'm concerned that's three strikes against ya right there! If anything I'd say I'm going soft on ya!" with that he moved his hands up to tickle under your arms, which practically made you scream as it was one of your worst spots.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" you squeal out, grabbing his wrists, but unable to push him off you.

"Yeah, bet you're really sorry. Sorry that you got caught, and sorry that you didn't zip up your jacket when I told you too!" he laughed.

Through your hard belly laughter you manage, "I give! I give up! I'm sorry!"

"Ya gonna do it again?"

"No!"

Yondu finally released you. "That's what I thought. Now get your jacket zipped, it's cold out here."

Still giggly, you finally obey his command and zip up your coat. "That was so mean!" you whine, punching him in the arm again.

"Yeah, you deserved it, brat." He answered with a smile and pulled you into a side hug and ruffled your hair. "You're lucky I didn't decide to bury you in the snow and leave ya there."

You simply stick out your tongue in response, and after he playfully shoved you in the shoulder in response to that, the two of you continue on your way to meet the others at the fishing hole.

#christmas writing prompts #drabbles #gotg fanfiction #papa yondu #yondu x reader #yondu fanfic #dad!yondu #daughter!reader

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writerthreads · 1 year

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30 festive writing prompts for your WIP/one-shots, you're welcome

forced to plan and execute a Christmas feast

"S'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt" "You just can't cook."

first Christmas as a couple/family/friend group

snowed in together in a cabin/coffee shop/bookstore

"Someone spiked the eggnog!"

family invited an old crush/first love to a dinner party

building a gingerbread house together

giving/receiving a (magical) family heirloom

decorating the tree

deciding who's been naughtiest/nicest in a family/friend group and making it a massive competition ("I ate a slice of your cake and din't tell you." "Well I was the one who gifted you festive toilet paper, I was your secret Santa."

snowball fight

meeting Santa at the mall but it goes awfully wrong

neighbourhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive

family invites a rival/enemy/the boss to a Christmas party/vacation

trying to make it Christmassy in a tropical location

going ice skating

"Come sit by the fireplace, it's getting cold"

fake dating for a Christmas party/ball

"I'm going to buy/make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible"

being caught standing under the mistletoe

coming up with different Christmas traditions and failing miserably

doing a new year resolution together

"Will you be my New Years kiss?"

New Years countdown/party

playing in the snow

secret Santa gift exchange

confessing a crush when it's snowing

German Christmas market

watching Christmas movies

"Stop trying to get me under the mistletoe!"

Anyways this is all I have, happy holidays!! Thanks for making 2022 such a great year and being part of the Writerthreads fam <3

#christmas prompts #christmas writing prompts #festive writing prompts #christmas #holidays #merry christmas #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing inspiration #romance #romance prompts #imagine your otp

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the-cypress-grove · 5 months

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Prompt: 181

The sun rose large and red on the horizon turning the sheets of snow into vast fields of glittering rubies. While beautiful, it meant one thing. Blood had been spilled in the night.

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generousobservationkryptonite · 5 months

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Barisi Fandom Advent Calendar

It's December very soon, and I felt that a fanfic advent calendar was required for our dear boys, and for all of us.

If you want to join in, please tag your fics with #BarisiAdvent2023 - if you aren't posting with a link to an outside source (like an AO3 link) please use a 'Keep Reading' cut because it helps with scrolling.

Time/date conversions are hard so posting guide is to post it between 12.00am and 11.59pm your time.

Some prompts are borrowed from prompt-lists of previous years and these are tagged (or are courtesy of helpful fandom friends!)

Write one, write all, write some, write none and stalk the tag for festive fics!

So here we go!

Christmas countdown

Family invites an old crush/first love to Christmas dinner (credit: @writerthreads )

Deciding who has been naughtiest/nicest and making it a massive competition (credit: @writerthreads)

Fake dating for a Christmas party/ball (credit: @writerthreads)

The SVU Christmas party/ball is winding down, everyone’s going home or on to clubs, and Rafael and Sonny find themselves the last to leave (credit: @randomlycee)

Rafael and Sonny are on call and have to work on Christmas Day (credit: @randomlycee)

Secret Santa gift exchange

Christmas baking

Snowed in/out

“You look like you could use this.” “What is it?” “10 ounces of the best hot chocolate you’ll ever taste, and I’ll put money on that too.” (credit: @sapphire-strikes)

“You’re being awfully sarcastic for someone dangling upside-down in a mess of tinsel.” (credit: @sapphire-strikes)

“Why’d you turn the music off?” (credit: @mirclealignr)

“What are you doing?” “Making a snow angel” (credit @mirclealignr)

“Please don’t make me wear this, I look ridiculous.” (credit @mirclealignr)

Eggnog/Mulled wine/Festive drinks

Under the mistletoe

Ugly sweater party

Going home for Christmas

Christmas song inspired – Let it Snow! (any version, tell us which)

Christmas song inspired – Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree (any version, tell us which)

Christmas song inspired – choose your favourite and share it with us

Embarrassing childhood Christmas photo/video

Christmas matchmaking

Christmas Eve

Opening presents

And some bonuses to end out December:

26. Christmas dinner leftovers for breakfast

27. An unclaimed present under the tree

28. It was fun, but…

29. Taking down the tree

30. What do you want for Christmas?

31. New Year’s Eve

#BarisiAdvent2023 #barisi #Fandom advent #fandom advent calendar #writing prompts #christmas writing prompts #rafael barba #sonny carisi

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vv-writing-prompts · 1 year

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20 Days of Smutmas Writing Prompts/Starters

Prompts

1. Hotter than hot chocolate

2. Merry Kiss-mas

3. Sleigh ride your partner into a holiday bliss

4. Bodies roasting by the open fire

5. Venturing to the South Pole

6. Tangled under the Christmas tree

7. Bonded by holiday ribbon

8. Sharing a scarf on a cold winter sleigh ride

9. Sucking on a candy cane

10. ‘O Christmas strip-tease!

Quotes

1. “Let’s make this a not-so-silent night.”

2. “Why sit on Santa’s lap when you can sit on mine?”

3. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

4. “Let’s be naughty together and save Santa the trip.”

5. “Your package is the only gift I need to unwrap tonight.”

6. “You’re the reason I’m on the naughty list this year.”

7. “Meet me under the mistletoe.”

8. “I’ll be content if you are the one stuffing my stocking.”

9. “ ‘Tis the season for sex.”

10. “Unwrap me.”

#writing starters #smut writing starters #smut writing prompts #christmas writing prompts #writing prompts #20 days of smutmas #prompts #smut prompts

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cognitivemania · 5 months

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Two burglars decide to rob a house during Christmas because the house owners went to vacation/went to visit a family member.

What the burglars didn't anticipate was that this house they're robbing is haunted by ghost from different eras. And they don't take kindly to robberies.

#christmas writing prompts #writing prompt #Christmas #ghost

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

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Okay besties!!

I'm in the process of putting together a bingo card for Winter/Holidays/Christmas bingo! and I need YOUR help.

Send in as many prompts/quotes/tropes/themes, etc to my ask box as possible!!!

I wanna fill this bitch up with lots of fun and cute ideas!

#bingo #writing bingo #writing prompts #winter prompts #christmas writing prompts #holiday writing prompts #law and order #law and order svu #criminal minds #chicago pd #chicago med #chicago fire #homeland #house of cards #grey's anatomy #private practice #MCU #the good fight #ncis

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writerbeemedina · 1 year

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Writing Prompt #41

Mrs Claus is feeling under appreciated. After all, she contributes a ton for the Christmas present deliveries her husband and the elves work for! But nobody knows. So she explains to whoever might be listening what she does.

#christmas writing prompts #mrs claus #santa claus #writing prompt #writing prompts

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apollolewis · 5 months

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Here’s a writing prompt born from sleep deprivation and having watched miracle on 34th street last night.

There’s a man named Santa Claus who lives in North Pole Alaska. He goes out of state one day near Christmas and a lot of people think he’s pretending to be Santa. He’s just a normal person.

#writing prompts #christmas writing prompts #Prompts #honestly I’d love to see if anyone takes this idea and does something with it #god knows I won’t #gonna go sleep

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saltsicklover · 4 months

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Title: Joy in Shattered Glass

Prompt: Nativity

Written for @sailor-aviator 's Christmas Writing Challenge! You can find the rest of the list HERE

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Themes, Talk of Religion, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff, slight Angst. Established Relationship, Wife Reader nicknamed Dottie.

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Bob Floyd has gotten used to coming home to find his wife in many, let's say, precarious situations. From trying to hang up art behind the couch on her own, to balancing on the top of a ladder to paint the wall that lines the stairs. His favorite ones involved her on her knees, an occurrence that no longer catches him by surprise anymore. It's not that he is no longer excited to see her that way, peering up through her eyelashes as the tip of her tongue drags impossibly slow over the fullest part of her bottom lip. It's just that, as their relationship has progressed, the scene became less surprising, but no less unexpected.

The front door swings open a quarter to six, just like it always does on the days he is stuck in the classroom instead of in the air running hops. Frustration has pulled muscles throughout Bob's body tight, his limbs aching as his large ruck falls from his shoulder and onto the floor.

Though he'd never admit it out loud, today is one of the days he wishes that his lover would have been there to meet him. Positioned their on the softness of the rug, pillow already positioned under her knees. He'd even left his flight suit on, know just how much she enjoys slowly tugging the impossibly long zipper down his body. That thought alone has had him half hard and well past needy since he pulled himself into the cab of his truck a half hour ago.

Bob's day inside the classroom has felt endless. It's his go around with the new Top Gun students, most of whom don't respect him as a WSO. They've spent the better part of the last week pushing all of his buttons, ragging on everything from his birth control glasses to his accent. They made sure to remind him of his inability to teach pilots with every other snide comment, and now it's Thursday and Bob has just about had it.

Dottie has had a day of her own, though she'd never complain, not in the slightest. It would be hard to complain when Bob has given her time to live out her dream of being a house wife, even if it's only temporary. Dottie packed up and moved to California at the drop of a hat, really. The moment Bob found out his detachment had been made permanent she had already started packing her bags. Though Bob has been wrapped around her finger for the better part of ten years, Dottie had all but belonged to Bob since their time in high school... well, rival high schools, and would follow that man to the ends of the Earth if it meant that she would get to be there when he got home at the end of the day.

The pair had met at a football game, stuck out in the snow with too little clothing and not enough seating on the HOME bleachers. Bob had arrived late and been banished to the AWAY side of the field, but what had seemed like a tragedy at the time became the start to their relationship. He was a sweatshirt of forest green in a sea of yellow and burgundy, but with Dottie cuddled up to his side, he found himself liking the color scheme.

Today, Dottie and Bob share a small home in the middle of a residential community. They are the odd pair out, no children. The moment the detachment became permanent, Dottie packed her things and made a home with Bob in Miramar, just north of their last base and the little house they couldn't stand. This time, however, has been the first time she has struggled to find employment, which has lead to their six week deal.

For six weeks, Dottie would get to play house wife. Cook, clean, and be a home maker like it was the 1950's again. After all, no one is hiring during the holidays anyway. She had spent the first few weeks just getting their lives in order, her move having taken place a few months ago. There had been boxes stacked around the house and everything had been in desperate need of a deep clean. Bob came home to cooked meals and his wife smiling like he hadn't seen her before. The stress that had been present in her was now gone and it's something Bob could get used to seeing.

Today, Dottie put the house together for the holidays. The Christmas tree stands in the corner of their small living room, decorated to the nines with reds and golds. The whole thing seems to glitter from all angles, the lights strung around it with expert hands. Dottie had baked cookies and started wrapping presents. The holidays season suddenly alive and well in the Floyd household.

She had even taken care of setting up the delicate Nativity set on the sturdy table near the front door. That thing had followed the pair around with every move, had seen more of the country than her, in fact, as Bob has had it since he turned 18. Dottie has never know Bob to be religious, nor is she, but that damn Nativity set is erected each year in a well visible place. It's tradition after all.

When Bob walked in a quarter to six, his heavy bag hitting the floor makes Dottie jump a little. With a furrowed brow, she rounds the corner. Her eyes meet an exasperated looking Bob, his hands already messing through his too neat hair.

"Hi Bobby," Dottie speaks just above a whisper, padding closer to her husband.

"Hello sweetheart," The greeting is all too sweet, though she can tell just how out of it her husband is. So, Dottie continues towards her husband. The moment she is within reach, Bob is pulling her body flush against his own, folding her into his arms. Dottie's fingertips graze over the back of his neck and up into his hair, scratching at his scalp.

"How was your day?" The question is a bit hesitant coming off her lips, but she doesn't stop it.

"I'm so sick of these damn kids," He huffs into her neck. Her laughter comes easy, from the mix of his breath against her neck and the silliness of the phrase.

"Bob, they're not much younger than us,"

"Youngest is 25," He mutters with roll of his eyes, "Fuckin' kids,"

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse," There's a bit of a smile in his tone. His arms snake around her just a little tighter, grounding himself with the feel of her body against his.

"Anything I can do?"

"Not unless you can make them actually respect me," The shrug of his shoulders maker Dottie frown. She can't imagine someone not respecting her husband. She knows he may be unassuming, but Robert Floyd is a force to be reckoned with, even if they can't see it. Even if he can't seem to remember.

"Oh, Bobby, I can think of a few ways," She presses kisses into the plain of his neck, a shudder quickly running through him. His mind is wandering back to the image of his wife on the floor and suddenly he can barely feel the tension in his limbs.

"What're those, sweetheart?" Hands slip down her body, fingers hooking through her beltloops.

"First off," The words are punctuated with further presses of her lips to his hot skin, "I was thinking that I could leave behind a few strategically placed hickeys. Something just visible over your collar, something to keep their attention towards the front of the room,"

Hands begin to wander, Bob's chest rising and falling faster as his wife continues speaking.

"Then, you can fuck me in all your favorite places, and we can finally christen this house correctly," There's a little chuckle with her words, but Bob is too busy taking in every touch of her hands against his clothed body.

"And, if you're feeling really feisty, we can have a repeat of that little incident in Virginia Bea-," The words catch in Dottie's throat as he picks her up without warning. He spins them around before dropping her onto the table near the front door. It isn't until her ass is connecting with the table that she realizes where she's at. The chorus of rolling ceramic and breaking glass make's her freeze. Bob stops quickly after, his eyes searching her worried expression.

"Oh my god," The color threatens to drain from her face, though her chest is burning.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He looks from her to the broken glass scattered around the floor, "What broke?"

"It was your- oh my god," Dottie covers her mouth with her hands, tears quickly welling in her eyes.

"What was it?" Bob's expression is so soft, even with his eyebrows screwed together in confusion.

"It was your Nativity set," Dottie's confession is barely audible, so he prompts her again.

"It was your Nativity set, Bobby, I'm so sorry," It takes Bob a second to realize what she's talking about, and it isn't until she is pushing him back and sliding off of the table that he lays eyes on the set, or what's left of it.

"You decorated?" He asks, his expression going fully soft.

"I did," Dottie wipes at a fallen tear, "I wanted to surprise you but I should've warned you, I guess,"

"Oh, sweetheart, it's alright," Bob takes her hand, running his thumb along her knuckles.

"No it's not Bobby. If I would have warned you this wouldn't have happened. Or maybe if I had been working instead of being at home. If I would have been working then I wouldn't have had the time to set all this up and then you would have been here to help me and then the Nativity set would have been somewhere more safe and it wouldn't have gotten broken. God, Bobby, I am so sorry," Dottie rambles all while Bob listens to her carefully though he has already made up his mind on what to say next.

He pulls her into a hug, shushing her gently while he rubs her back in an attempt to keep her from getting too worked up. It isn't until she calms down a little more that he finally decides to speak.

"Can I let you in on a little secret?" Bob asks, his voice low in her ear. All Dottie manages is a nod, but Bob continues diligently.

"I fucking hate that thing,"

"You what?" Dottie sniffles a bit, her voice muffled by his flight suit.

"I hate that thing!" Bob repeats himself, louder this time. There is a laugh that follows right out of his lips. Dottie pulls back, looking at him with wild eyes.

"Are you telling me that you've been hauling that thing around for over a decade even though you hate it?" Her mouth hangs open when he laughs harder, eyes squeezing together behind his glasses.

"Yeah. I'm glad we can finally get rid of it!"

"So, let me get this straight, you've been hauling it around, and we have been setting that stupid thing up for years and you've wanted to get rid of it this whole time?" Dottie looks like she is trying to solve a cold case behind flushed cheeks and wet eyes. The expression just makes Bob laugh harder.

"My grandmother gave me that," Bob manages to explain between deep breathes and lingering laughter.

"You're making me feel worse," Dottie crosses her arms over her chest, but never lets go of Bob's hand. He just pulls her closer, wrapping her back into his embrace.

"I'm not trying to, sweetheart. I'm trying to explain,"

Dottie looks up at him, through her lashes expectantly. Bob continues with a sigh, doing his best to ignore the light sheen still clinging to her cheeks.

"Remember the Christmas Pops brought my sisters and I to see my grandmother before I went to the academy?" Bob inquires with a gentle voice, maintaining eye contact with Dottie as he does. "Well, she gave me that Nativity set. She said that every proper home needed one, and since I was going to be in my own home I needed to have one,"

"That's kind of sweet," Dottie mutters.

"It gets worse," Bob promises, a wry smile on his lips.

"She knew that I wasn't raised religious, and didn't agree with her view of religion being a necessity. She also knew that you weren't religious, and that made her dislike you. When she gave that thing to me she said some backhanded comment about how you weren't wife material because of you lack of religious background,"

"That bitch,"

"My thoughts exactly," Bob chuckles, "She was a racist old bitty too,"

That gets them both laughing. Dottie's head comes to rest on Bob's shoulder, her face flushing as she grins.

"Then why did you keep it?" She asks finally, after they calm down.

"I dunno. I guess I felt bad for even wanting to get rid of it that I just couldn't without feeling sort of guilty about it. However, every time I moved I hoped it would break or that the box would get lost so I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore," The confession is spoken with a laugh and the feeling of being a hundred times lighter takes over his once aching limbs.

"Geez, Bobby," Dottie starts with a heavy sigh, though the tension seems to release from her shoulders as she exhales. "I'm glad that you aren't too hurt over the whole thing. Guess I'm just sad it ruined the mood,"

There is a shrug of her shoulders before Bob is placing a widespread hand on her stomach, pulling her frame back into his firm body.

"Oh Dot, sweetheart," Bob nuzzles his nose into her hair, "We are still just getting started."

He spins her body in his hold before picking her up. Legs wind themselves around his midsection, hands cradling his neck before venturing north into his too neat hair. They kiss with a needy heat, one that is just beginning to burn as Dot pulls back.

"Wait," Her breath fans over his skin, his fingertips digging into the fullest parts of her thighs, "The glass, we can't just leave it,"

The bridge of his nose runs along the slope of her jaw, her lower lip making a home between imperfect teeth.

"I'll tend to it later," It's a whispered promise, "But you're the only dangerous thing I want to deal with right now,"

"Me? Dangerous?" The words slip past her lips as Bob deposits her down onto the kitchen counter, allowing himself to settle between her legs.

"Absolutely. I mean, if we weren't destined for hell before, breaking that little scene while getting up to some nefarious business has to of dammed our souls for sure," There is an air of humor in his voice, even as Bob tries his best to keep a straight face as he places kisses down the side of Dottie's neck.

"Robert Floyd!" There is a little squeal that accompanies his name, just as he digs his fingers into the squishy flesh at her sides, tickling her.

"Yes, Mrs. Floyd?" He asks over the choir of her laughter, his own breaking past his smile, "Do you disagree? Even though you were the one to proposition me?"

"You kissed me first!" It's a weak argument, but it's the best one she's got. His tickling hands come to rest on her waist, heavy and warm.

"After that little proposition you made. What was it? Christen the house by letting me fuck you in all of my favorite places?" One of his hands comes up to cradle the side of her face, a devious smirk on his own. Dottie makes to attempt to shy away from her husband's heavy gaze. Instead her eyes trail down the slope of his nose and over the ridges of his cupids bow. She plucks his glasses from his nose to get an unimpeded look at his sea glass irises.

"About that..." His glasses clink against the cool stone of the countertop, his eyebrows raising with curiosity.

"Where to first, Mr. Floyd?" The devious smirk never leaves Bob's face as he pulls her in closer, closer, closer.

"Oh, sweetheart, we're already here,"

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